


Secondary Factors

by Becca O (trekybecky), cruisedirector



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1996-12-02
Updated: 1996-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-06 23:25:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trekybecky/pseuds/Becca%20O, https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruisedirector/pseuds/cruisedirector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chakotay is angry following the events of "Prime Factors," but comes to realize that his strong feelings for the captain stem from more than concerns about their command partnership.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secondary Factors

**Author's Note:**

> This was written and is set shortly after "Prime Factors." Deepest apologies to Eric Stillwell if he ever finds this page.

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Chakotay would have laughed. Well, they had wanted the Federation and Maquis officers to start working together, regardless of backgrounds, for common goals...and the two crews certainly had done that if nothing else. He slammed his fist into a bulkhead as he passed, drawing stares from the handful of crewmembers who were up and around this late shift. B'Elanna and Seska felt comfortable enough with the Starfleet engineers to start a mutiny with them, and Tuvok felt comfortable enough with his former colleagues to let them know what he was up to. Harry must have had an inkling, maybe Tom Paris too, but if they had concerns they certainly hadn't let Chakotay know. And as for Janeway...he'd dismissed the rumors he'd heard floating around the ship about the captain and the alien magistrate, but he wondered at the fact that she'd barely introduced himself--her first officer--to the person she was negotiating with for all of their futures. Either the crew had been right and she'd been blinded by infatuation and hope, or she just didn't trust Chakotay, either.

And to think that he'd been feeling that odd ambivalence which always overtook him when a way back to the Alpha Quadrant seemed to present itself: of course he wanted to get back, he had work to do (if she didn't arrest him once they got there), he'd taken an oath to defend the zone (if the Cardassians hadn't simply killed everyone outright and there wasn't another war), he had people he loved (if they forgave him for agreeing to serve the Federation)...he fought an urge to hit the ship again, feeling an odd rush of affection towards Voyager. The vessel itself had gotten under his skin. When he admitted to himself how much he'd been liking his job, he always thought in terms of the the elegant corridors, the huge ports along the upper decks, the sleekness of the engines, the fact that he could touch a panel and talk directly to the brain. He did not want to lose this ship...

Janeway's ship, he reminded himself. No matter how many times she said "our ship," she still treated it as her own. Why the hell hadn't she let him talk to the magistrate, or at least come to him with her concerns? He knew she still hadn't told him the entire story with Tuvok--what the Vulcan had thought he was doing, yes, and part of why, but there was something missing. Well, they had something in common there at least: they'd both worked with Tuvok for a long time, only to discover that he was capable of betraying them in one second if his logic dictated that he should. Tuvok probably thought he was being noble and self-sacrificial...except Vulcans didn't think that way, they didn't feel sorry for themselves. HE was the one doing that.

Chakotay had a splitting headache. He went back to his quarters, threw himself down on the bunk, and fell almost instantly into a restless sleep, an odd dream.

They had discovered a planet which had recently been decimated by an energy disaster, and Janeway and Paris had somehow gotten themselves caught in a subspace rift and traveled into the planet's past, just before the explosion...Kim and Torres were running out of ideas to retrieve them, and they were all running out of time. He wished he had an hour to think, but in an hour, all the subspace fissures might be closed, and the Captain and Paris lost in the past of a planet they knew to be doomed. And Tuvok, sitting coldly upright in his chair looking like the traitor he was...no, Tuvok was a member of his crew again, and he needed the Vulcan's input, although at the moment that Vulcan was attempting to shoot down the only viable plan they had.

"We're concentrating our search on the flashpoint of the explosion," B'Elanna was saying, explaining that the subspace fissures emanated from that point and so it offered the greatest possible number of them to try to retrieve the Captain and Paris. Tuvok cut her off, stating that it was not logical to assume that the captain and Paris would have been at the flashpoint.

The first officer glared at the Vulcan. "If it were me, I'd try to get there."

"The question is not what you would do, but what Captain Janeway would do," Tuvok reminded him prissily.

Chakotay resisted an urge to tell the Vulcan to put up or shut up. While Tuvok certainly knew Janeway better than himself, Chakotay resented the man's smug interruptions; Tuvok had questioned every order the first officer had given him, invoking Starfleet and his long collaboration with Janeway to back himself up. It seemed to Chakotay that Tuvok believed he wasn't trying hard enough to find the captain--as though Chakotay would resort to murder to take over the ship. He had believed that, after months of serving together, Tuvok thought better of him.

When Chakotay let himself think about it, he was almost frantic to get Janeway back. As for Paris, well, he owed the little shit his life.

He snapped to a decision, giving the orders to find the flashpoint and set up the generator. As the officers filed out the door, however, he grabbed Tuvok by the arm. The Vulcan stared at him--surprised? furious at being touched, yet unwilling to reveal that emotion?--Chakotay didn't know, but he wasn't about to let Tuvok walk out of the room without finishing some business.

"Commander?" Tuvok inquired, his voice betraying the urgency of their mission but nothing else.

"Lieutenant, we need to have a little talk," Chakotay snapped.

"I suggest, sir, that this is not the time. The captain..."

"This is exactly the time!" the human roared. "This is going to take one minute. I know how you feel about having served under me in the Maquis, and I know how you feel about having to serve under me now when in your opinion I should be in the brig. But I'm tired of having to say "That's an order" after every command I give you, so I'm putting you on notice: I'm not going to let you undermine my authority on this ship."

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "I have merely been reminding you of alternatives it would be logical for you to consider. In your capacity as First Officer, you perform a similar role for the Captain, do you not?"

Chakotay crossed his arms, reminding himself that the other man had been obsessed with protocol even during his stint as a Maquis. "Is that what this is all about? That Janeway made me First Officer and not you?"

Tuvok remained impassive. "I do not understand what you mean."

"I think you do." Chakotay began to pace. "Look, I haven't had time to fully review your service record, but Starfleet must think you're pretty important if they let Janeway come looking for my ship just to get you back. I suppose that you were the logical choice to become First Officer when whatshisname--Cavit?--was killed. But the captain offered the job to me, and I think..." he sought a term with no emotional connotation, settling on "...that disturbs you."

"It is not my place to judge Captain Janeway's decisions." The Vulcan's face remained infuriatingly stony; Chakotay was tempted to slap him, just to get a reaction. "You are First Officer, and at the moment you are in command of the ship. I have merely been doing my duty by offering you every possible alternative. I suggest, sir, that we focus our energy right now on recovering the captain. I would estimate the odds of our successful return to the Alpha Quadrant to be much lower without her."

He was worried about Janeway, Chakotay thought suddenly. Vulcan or no, Tuvok's concern seemed suddenly obvious, and for the first time Chakotay let himself remember that he had thought this man an exemplary comrade until the moment he learned that his co-conspirator was a Federation agent. He was still angry at himself for not suspecting--Vulcans, after all, put duty above all else, and he could scarcely imagine this one betraying any commander he had served. Especially not Kathryn Janeway.

"Maybe something she's doing in the past will stop the explosion."

Tuvok shook his head slightly. "That would be a direct violation of the Prime Directive."

"Would it be out of character for her to interfere if she knew the entire planet was going to be destroyed?"

"Under normal circumstances I would say that it would be very unlike her." The Vulcan looked troubled. "It is not my place to question the Captain's interpretations of events."

"But you just said that that's the job of a first officer." The former Maquis leader looked hard at his former colleague. "These aren't normal circumstances at all. We've been stranded in the Delta Quadrant because Janeway made the decision to destroy that array, because the Ocampa would have been killed if we hadn't. That's a pretty loose interpretation of the Prime Directive, and I think that bothers you..."

...a communicator shrilled, jolting Chakotay awake. He looked wildly around for Tuvok...no, he reminded himself, that had been the dream, he had been angry at the Vulcan but it was Janeway whom he really wasn't sure about...was that the dream? He swung himself off the bunk and strode out into the corridor. The captain should have been asleep, but knowing her she was probably in her ready room, trying to figure out if there was still some way to use the Sikarian space-folding technology to get back. Switching into science officer mode since she didn't have to command right this moment--she couldn't even seem to delegate those duties--that would be like her, to stay up all night, and besides, it didn't take a ship's counselor to recognize how upset she was with Torres as well as Tuvok. He headed for the Bridge. The lieutenant on duty started to rise as he entered, but he waved her back into the center seat. "She still in there?" he indicated the ready room. The officer nodded, and Chakotay hit the intercom button.

He had guessed right, of course; Janeway was sitting behind the desk with padds spread in front of her and a chart involving antineutrinos on the screen. She looked uncharacteristically exhausted and not terribly pleased to see him. "Is there a problem, Commander?" she inquired.

"You mean other than our upstart crew?" he demanded. "Or should I say YOUR crew, since I don't recall your asking me what I thought about any of this?"

She gave him an almost-smile of incredulity. "The chief engineer we both worked hard to trust apparently betrayed both of us, unless there's something you're not telling me. And Tuvok...you can't imagine, I've worked with him for years..."

"I can imagine. I worked with him for months, only to find out he was really serving you. But that's what logic dictated, isn't it?" She cocked her head. "I can't say I'm surprised about his role in this, although I have a feeling you're not telling me everything. But, then, you're the captain, you don't have to tell anyone anything."

She looked sharply at him. "Is there something you wanted to ask me, Commander?" she inquired pointedly.

"Yes." He dropped his palms down on the desktop hard as he leaned over. "I want to know why you didn't once ask my opinion about anything that happened back there, except superficially during the staff meeting, where as I recall you dismissed what I said."

"As I recall, you suggested that good Starfleet officers play fast and loose with the Prime Directive. I should have pounced on that statement then and there. For all I know it was what trigged B'Elanna's decision to join the others." She glared.

"I didn't say fast and loose. We were discussing what we do when we realize that the entire principle's muddier than we usually want to admit. Isn't that what caused this mess--Tuvok's always-right logic wrapping itself around the Prime Directive?"

Janeway shifted her eyes uncomfortably away from Chakotay's. "I don't want to talk about Tuvok's motives. Let's just say that nothing like this will ever happen again."

He stood back up. "I see. Well, thank you for keeping me informed about the state of the crew." He thought about adding, "I'm glad you feel you can confide in me," but suspected that his sarcasm would be lost on her. "Goodnight, Captain."

She looked bewildered and a little hurt, but of course she'd probably looked that way before he came in. "Chakotay--I'm not sure I understand. Are you angry at me because I didn't consult with you, or at Torres and the others because they didn't?"

He thought of B'Elanna; the last time he had seen her she had been close to tears, but he suspected that that was because she had let Janeway down; loyalty to him did not factor into her current frame of mind. "I'm not angry at anyone. Why should I be?" He grinned mirthlessly at her. "You've made it clear that I'm too much of a rogue element for Starfleet decisions, so that responsibility's off my head. And my former Maquis colleagues have integrated into the crew so well that they feel comfortable conspiring without me. I'm just trying to do my job."

"So am I," she said in a strained voice which normally would have set his alarms off. "It hasn't been a good day for me either, Commander. I feel like I've lost my newest protegee and my oldest friend."

"Well, I've lost my oldest protegee," he snapped, thinking that she had far less right to feel betrayed by Torres than he did himself, and knowing that he could have predicted what Tuvok might be planning if she'd had one moment to ask him--Tuvok had been thinking like a first officer, in fact. He looked hard at Janeway. "Plus I feel like I've lost my newest friend. Were you really so enamored with Gath that you couldn't even stop to ask what I thought about him? Or do you just not trust me?"

"None of this had anything to do with Gath," she said in genuine surprise. "He looked to be our best chance to get what we wanted. When I found out he wasn't playing fair, I was upset, but not on a personal level if that's what you're thinking."

"Obviously you missed hearing all the interesting rumors about yourself on the ship," he shrugged while she looked alarmed. "I could have warned you, if you were around. I could have warned you about a lot of things, if you'd treated me like a first officer for one lousy minute."

She sat back slowly in her chair, not looking at him, and he thought she was trying to frame an argument. But when she spoke, her voice was subdued. "You're right," she muttered. "I'm sorry. There are a lot of things I've missed the mark on in the past several hours..." She strangled on the words and shoved herself out of the seat, striding away from him, over to the windows. He couldn't help feeling sorry for her in spite of everything. No matter how unhappy he was with his present situation, at least being ignored he wasn't the focus of the crew's hostility. And of course she had liked Gath's attention: no one else talked to her as anything other than a commanding officer, no one really got close to her either. He moved quietly behind her and she turned, putting a hand on his arm. "I think I didn't want to ask you because I thought I knew what you'd say. And I didn't want to have to fight with you. It was easier to try to work through it myself."

"Is that what you did with Tuvok?" he asked.

She sighed. "I also didn't want you put in a position of taking the heat for this. We both know that some of the Starfleet crewmembers still resent your position, and that some of your former Maquis colleagues think you've gone over to the enemy. If you'd gone along with me the crew would blame you for not fighting me, and if you'd insisted that we could take the technology despite the Prime Directive, it would have compromised your authority and mine."

He stared at her in shock, unable to know that Tuvok had used similar logic with her earlier. "Captain, if you'll permit me to speak freely, that wasn't your decision to make. I should have been consulted, not protected like some wet-behind-the-ears ensign. Gods, Harry Kim probably knew what was going on better than I did," he spat, feeling furious, humiliated, and perversely a little flattered at the same time. Turning his back on the captain, he stalked over to her desk and leaned wearily on the edge. His headache was back, centered right behind his eyes. He took a deep breath and sighed audibly.

The silence in Janeway's ready room was thick with tension. Quietly she said, "You're absolutely right. I should give you credit for having at least a little common sense."

She was trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn't working. Straightening, Chakotay said wearily, "If that's an attempt at humor, save it. You can't joke your way out." He jumped slightly when Janeway put her hand on his shoulder. She was given to morale-lifting pats on the back, but somehow this one caught him by surprise. He turned toward her, shrugging off her touch.

"I didn't mean to keep you out of the loop," she added. "I just didn't think it was necessary to involve you in the blame...I feel like all the blame for everything that happens out here is mine. *I* brought the crew out here. *I* destroyed the array. *I*..."

"That's emotional garbage and you know it," he snapped. "You were trained for this kind of leadership position." He paused as he saw the look on Janeway's face. He couldn't name the emotion, but he did know that he had struck a nerve.

"Our whole situation is unlike anything covered in any of those endless seminars we were forced to attend. At least on a normal mission, we have some kind of contact with the upper echelon of Starfleet, random communiques from home. But now..." she let her words drift off.

"Lonely at the top, isn't it, Captain?" Chakotay thought about telling her what it had been like in the Maquis, when every mission was undertaken in silence and with the full understanding that no assistance would be forthcoming. He knew that the remark would smart, especially after what Tuvok and B'Elanna had done. Ignoring the look on Janeway's face, he turned and headed for the door. "Permission to leave?" She turned away, nodding. He strode out of the ready room. Ignoring the questioning looks he received from the bridge crew, he entered the turbolift and headed for the holodeck, hoping Tom Paris didn't have some drunken orgy programmed already.

The fresh air and quiet outdoor sounds were soothing. Chakotay sat in his favorite place for meditation and tried to make some sense out of all that had transpired. On the one hand, his anger was justified. On the other hand, he felt like a fool for overreacting to what boiled down to a command decision. Certainly he had been overruled on other assignments on other ships, so what was it about this particular instance that was getting to him? He was obviously too close to it to remain objective. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander, entering the outermost levels of trance.

As his breathing slowed, he began to remember bits and pieces of other times, other decisions; he tried to recall the last time he had been this distraught by work. Things had been very different in the Maquis, where the stakes were clear, when people were forced to accept a ragged command structure and crucial decisions were almost always made by a desperate commander. The last time the Starfleet hierarchy had really gotten to him was just before he resigned, when he could not make his superior officer understand the real issues in the Demilitarized Zone and why he insisted on contacting Federation HQ directly. But the stakes had been much higher then; not only had he been fighting for his home and his people, he had felt so betrayed because he'd nearly worshipped the officer in question, it had almost been a crush. At least he'd learned better than to let anything like that happen again; even casual emotional involvement with one's fellow officers could lead to trouble, and if he needed any more proof he had only to note what Tuvok's betrayal had done to Janeway...

Chakotay nearly pulled himself out of his meditation as he recalled the misery on his captain's face when he left her ready room. He considered apologizing, but assumed that she had probably finally gone to bed, and he certainly wasn't going to disturb her in her quarters. He shoved the captain's image out of his mind and attempted to reenter a trance state, pleading with his guide for a vision to assist him. The clean scent of the air helped him; he filled his lungs and exhaled slowly, letting his anger go with his breath.

Within the trance, he dreamed.

They were back at Sikarius, flying on Voyager, except somehow they were sitting on top of the ship looking over the hull down at the planet. He glanced over at the captain as they descended into the atmosphere. The wind had knocked her hair loose and as the strands blew about her he could see gold braid twisting like a ribbon within them. "We don't have to wear these uniforms anymore if you don't want to," she laughed, as if answering a question. Then she tapped her comm badge, and the uniforms were gone. So was the ship. The music of the weather chimes floated up. He stared at her in shock as they spun naked in the clouds, knowing it was only through her power that he did not fall. She caught his hands as they floated and pulled him close. "We're not in Federation space," she whispered urgently. "I can't remember all the rules. We have to decide together..." They tumbled into a cloud, whiteness obscuring her face until the light was all.

Chakotay's eyes opened very slowly and he looked around the holodeck. Everything looked different, clearer and sharper than he remembered; it filled him with a sense of embarrassed wonder. He did not need a shaman to interpret his vision. He stood, running his hands through his hair as he gave a name to the feeling which had driven him to this night and wondeering whether anyone else suspected. "Computer, end program," he called plaintively, and headed for the upper decks; he was suddenly ravenous, and hoped Neelix still had some food in that galley of his.

Captain Kathryn Janeway finally closed the files she was pretending to work on and went to her quarters. She was off duty till morning and was determined to get some rest. Unfortunately, every time she closed her eyes, her mind began to replay the events of the last several days--more specifically, the last several hours--filling her with anxiety and loneliness. She chided herself for taking B'Elanna's rebellious behavior so personally, but it really had hurt to discover that she couldn't trust the girl she had stuck her neck out for...as for Tuvok, well, she wasn't even going to think about that right now. And then the way she had let Chakotay get to her, convincing her that she was wrong when he was the one she was trying to spare...an idle analogy trickled through her thoughts, the time she had tried to shield Mark from a crisis concerning a mutual friend and he had raged at her for distancing him as if she were condescending rather than protecting him. But Mark loved her, for heaven's sake, that was why he knew her well enough to get under her skin like that. She dismissed the parallel in annoyance; Chakotay just happened to strike a nerve at a time when she was very isolated and confused about the right thing to do. He barely knew her well enough to help her in staff meetings, let alone to dictate her own feelings to her.

Chakotay was hard to read--harder than Tuvok, ironically, despite the Vulcan's control. She had trusted her new first officer instinctively almost from the start, and he had done nothing to make her question that faith, although she was becoming increasingly doubtful of her own motives for her easy reliance on him. It was difficult to remember that she had been sent on this mission to apprehend him. She suspected that deep down she had wanted to see him as a noble figure, fighting in a misguided but dignified cause, and he had fit her script perfectly--plus he worked hard, he adapted easily and confidently to new situations, he treated her with respect--he laughed at her jokes. And he was starting to take her into his confidence. Even that tantrum tonight indicated that what she thought of him mattered to him on a personal as well as professional level. When she wondered what he thought about her deep down, she found herself shifting uncomfortably, warning herself that she shouldn't even be thinking along these lines when she needed to get some rest.

The tension on the bridge the next morning was palpable. The captain sounded brief and curt with everyone, and Chakotay didn't even bother to speak. Paris went about his business as usual, but secretly wondered what had transpired between the two senior officers. After all, it was no secret how Chakotay felt about his lack of participation in this latest debacle; some of the crew were even taking bets on how long it would be before he publicly lost his cool. The lieutenant grinned to himself, hoping he would be there when it happened.

Tuvok silently did his job and spoke only when spoken to. He knew the captain was disappointed in him, but he also knew it was just a matter of time before things were back to normal; Janeway relied on order and calm, she would not permit her own agitation to interfere with the functioning of the ship. For his part, Harry Kim was just bewildered. Taking it all in, he tried to understand where he fit into all this--after all, he was the one who had experienced the instantaneous transport to 40,000 light years away--somehow, although unreasonably, he blamed himself.

Preoccupied thus, they never saw it coming. Without warning, the USS Voyager was rocked by a blast of energy so strong it sent the bridge officers tumbling from their posts. They slowly regained their positions as Janeway called out, "Mr. Kim, report!" She never heard the answer. Before Kim could phrase a response, the ship was rocked by a second, more powerful wave of energy. Janeway had been on her way to the conn station; that was the last thing she would be aware of until much later.

As the ship slowly leveled out, the crew began to assess the damage. Chakotay picked himself up from the floor by his post and immediately sensed that something was not right. "Mr. Paris, take us fifteen light years out of this region, warp six, we need a safe distance to monitor whatever that was we just encountered. Mr. Kim, can you give us some idea what the hell that was?" He instinctively knew that it wasn't his place to give those orders, but none were forthcoming from the captain. Turning, he realized why: Kathryn Janeway was crumpled in front of her command chair and showed no visible signs of life.

Stay calm, he thought, quickly crossing to the captain's side; he felt for a pulse and was visibly relieved to find one. Slapping her comm badge, he called out, "Chakotay to transporter room. Emergency! Lock onto the captain and beam her directly to sickbay." He raged momentarily against his position--as first officer he could not very well leave the Bridge at a time like this to follow her--but he quickly put such thoughts aside. As the captain's still form began to dissolve into energy, he was already calling out orders to the bridge crew to monitor the energy flux.

By the time Chakotay had a moment to contact sickbay, the Doctor had completed his initial evaluation. "Mild concussion, nothing serious. Although I suspect the captain will have quite a headache when she wakes up."

Chakotay sighed a little louder than he ought to have; the busy bridge crew ignored him, but Kes, overhearing over the comm system, smiled a little and murmured, "We'll take care of her for you, Commander." Realizing his slip, Chakotay tried to recover by asking several technical questions about Janeway's physical condition, but Kes wasn't fooled for a minute. It seemed her empathic powers were becoming stronger daily. She was beginning to enjoy the advantages that they sometimes afforded her, not that she was surprised at this moment: she had guessed that the commander's feelings for the captain went beyond that of respect for his commanding officer even before he did himself. But after all the captain had done for her, Kes thought that Janeway deserved some happiness in her life--and if Kes was right, then Chakotay might be the right person to bring that about. "The captain is going to be fine," she informed the first officer, who was in the process of asking whether he should come down there himself. "I promise I'll keep you informed of her condition."

"I tell you, I'm much better," Janeway insisted to the Doctor as Kes hovered nearby. "I will not be held here like some invalid."

"Captain," Kes said softly, "the Doctor is right. It's too soon for you to return to duty. You were unconscious for quite a long time."

The Doctor responded, "That is absolutely correct. The force of the blow to your head could have lasting effects for several days, least of which is that headache that you seem determined to ignore."

"What if I promise just to return to my quarters?" Janeway asked.

"Now why don't I believe that you'd stay there?" the doctor retorted with a suspicious look on his face.

Janeway sighed in disgust. "I have a job to do. People are depending on me." "You have a perfectly capable first officer," Kes replied. "It's his job to take over for you when you are unwell."

"You mean when I am unfit for duty? But I'm NOT..."

"All right," said the Doctor. "That's enough. I have the authority to relieve you of duty for medical reasons, and that is just what I'm doing. Until further examination you are hereby..."

"Computer, end program," Janeway snapped, looking a little apologetic, and the Doctor blinked out of existence.

Kes smiled. "It's too late, Captain. He suspected you might do that, so he entered it into the ship's log before you could terminate him." Kathryn Janeway was speechless. "I did promise him, though, that I would stay with you and monitor your condition. I'll get out of your way unless you want company, but you really need the rest."

"Well, I suppose that's the way it has to be," Janeway groaned. "Kes, will you let me go to my quarters at least? You can stay with me there if you insist."

Kes nodded agreeably. "You go ahead. I'm going to get you something for the pain. You can't pretend that your head..."

"...isn't killing me," Janeway managed a grim smile as she slid off the diagnostic bed. "Fine. Bring it with you." She headed for the turbolift and her cabin.

"I'll be along shortly," Kes called after her as she discreetly tapped her comm badge and murmured, "Kes to Chakotay..."

"Thank you for letting me stop by," the tall man said to the tiny Ocampa guarding the door.

"Well, she's asleep, finally. I knew she would not be pleasant to you if she were awake, so I waited to call you."

Chakotay chuckled. "Doesn't like being confined? Somehow that doesn't surprise me. Look, if you'd like to take a break, I'd be more than happy to stay for awhile."

With an innocent look worthy of any actress in the galaxy, Kes said, "Would you? That would be wonderful. There really are some things I need to finish up in sickbay. If you need me, just call and I'll be right here." She made a swift exit, but Chakotay didn't see the triumphant smile that lit her features as the door closed behind her.

Unable to resist the temptation, he strode silently to the edge of Janeway's bunk. Looking at the still form lying there, a shiver passed through him. He did not want to leave, but knew that if he stayed in the room too near her, the temptation to gather her in his arms would be overwhelming. His sentimentality embarrassed him, but he also suspected that it served to protect him from how strongly he actually felt about her. Deciding that distance was the best option, he retreated to the living area and settled in to work on his log report for the day.

He worked in comfortable silence for a while, losing track of the time. Something caught his attention, and he tried to pick out what it was. He realized with a start that the sound was coming from where Janeway slept. She was either dreaming, in pain, or both. Knowing that he couldn't help from where he was, he quickly strode across the room and knelt by the side of the bunk. "Captain..." he said softly. No response. He said it again, but still nothing. Touching her arm lightly, he tried once more. "Kathryn..."

"No..." she mumbled in her sleep. "S'my fault. I got us into this. I have to make it stop..." Without opening her eyes, she began to cry softly. He sat carefully on the bed and curled up against her, unable to tolerate her grief. As he put his arms around her, his hand brushed the side of her breast; he drew back as if burned. For the sake of your ancestors, he thought. She's hurt and that's all you can think about? He held her and murmured comforting words in her ear as she wept quietly in her distress. Unfortunately, his body had a mind of its own; much to his disgust, he was becoming extremely stimulated. Gradually she quieted, but he continued to caress her soothingly.

Kathryn Janeway slowly fought her way out of sleep. She didn't want to wake up--she was having the most delicious dream--she felt more secure than she had in a long time, and didn't want to lose that feeling. As her memories returned and she became aware of her surroundings, she had the sudden thought that it definitely wasn't Kes who was with her. There was too much weight bearing down the side of the bunk, and those hands...

In the instant before the captain's mind snapped to attention, a rush of raw pleasure overtook her, followed by astonishment at his temerity and joy at his concern. Immediately wide awake, she considered her options carefully and then all at once decided she'd had enough of trying to make the right decisions concerning her relationships with the people who served under her. They had mostly backfired anyway, and in this particular case she knew that much as she wanted to deny it, her own feelings clouded her judgment. Right now she wasn't on duty and neither was he. She abruptly shifted her weight and was rewarded by the pressure of a certain portion of the anatomy of one very aroused man behind her.

Chakotay tried to move, but it was no use. Janeway chuckled softly and turned to face him. "Commander," she smiled disarmingly, "I'm glad to see you, and you certainly seem glad to see me."

He was mortified. "This isn't exactly the way I planned this," he grinned back ruefully.

"Really? Which part did you plan? Taking the ship into this sector, getting the Doctor to toss me in here, or..." he could see her humor rising with her eyebrows, "...how did you get Kes to leave, anyway?"

"She volunteered," he shrugged, then quickly hit his comm badge. "Chakotay to Kes. It looks like I'm going to have to stay up this entire shift reading the reports on that phenomenon we encountered earlier, so I'll keep an eye on the Captain. You can just turn in when you're off duty."

"Understood, Commander," Kes's voice floated over them, the comm system barely disguising the amusement in her tone.

"Computer, lock the door," the captain added, sliding an arm under her first officer's body as he stretched out beside her. "About this phenomenon we encountered earlier...is there any danger..."

"Don't make me talk about work in this position," he groaned.

"But I thought you were about to show me how this was supposed to work?" Her face held an affectionate amusement that made her look almost maternal; he felt both shamed and absurdly excited that she was giving control of the situation to him.

He had been about to take her face in his hands to kiss her, but was afraid to put pressure on her skull for fear of hurting her. Instead he wrapped his fingers around her neck, stroking his thumbs gently from her ears across her cheekbones to her mouth, which opened slightly as he brushed it. "How's your head feeling?" he asked.

"Heavy," she admitted, catching the tip of one of his thumbs with her upper teeth. "But not sore, just a little exhausted. I don't want to think very much."

"Then I guess I'll save the speeches for another occasion," he sighed. "Although I thought for awhile today I might have missed my chance. I don't ever want to go through that again." Her arms tightened around his waist and she rolled under him, pulling his weight on top of her like a blanket. "There's a lot we haven't managed to communicate to each other..."

"Go ahead then," she whispered, letting the desire she'd been repressing for months flood her as he lowered his face to hers. Their lips met tenderly, and the knot of arms and legs that were their bodies tightened. Her responsiveness astonished him--she had, after all, suffered a serious physical trauma. He tried not to press her too roughly, for his own sake as well as hers; he was afraid much more would drive him over the edge too quickly. Her hands traveled in a slow circle across his back, lazily caressing the shoulders she had been known to squeeze on the bridge in moments of excitement or panic. He drew back to look at her face, the intense blue eyes that often startled him when she focused them on him unexpectedly. She smiled as if she knew what he was thinking, letting her hands slide between them to rub his chest, then dropping them back to her sides. "I might be too tired to be very interesting," she sighed apologetically.

"You could never not be interesting. You just relax," he replied. As he began to remove her clothes, she let her limbs become completely passive. He had to maneuver her arms through the sleeves, her chest out of the bodice, touching her everywhere since she offered no assistance. The motion of his hands bending and stroking her was delicious; she could feel both his vigor and his gentleness as he manipulated her, making her ache for him to touch her so everywhere. He thought his hands looked monstrous against her body, which was a mouthwatering combination of hardness and softness. Even in her present tranquil state, he could feel the surprising strength in her limbs, but he was drawn to the delicate pale skin in the crooks of her arms and between her breasts. He could not look at her without wanting to taste her; he moaned as his mouth slid down her body, starting just under her left ear and traveling slowly down her neck, across one arm to suck her fingers, then back up the same arm to move gently down her chest.

Beginning to sweat, he groped at the fasteners on his own uniform without ever lifting his lips from her body, knocking their clothes to the floor with his feet while he pulled himself onto all fours above her, sliding his fingertips to her breasts while his head slid downward. He rimmed her navel, making her squirm a little; he whispered an apology, then dropped down to kiss the backs of her knees without ever lifting his outstretched fingers from her nipples. His mouth traveled slowly up her thigh, meandering but never swaying from its destination. He could smell the salty dampness between her legs before he got there, and the knowledge that he was causing it made him ravenous. He pressed his tongue against the very bottom of her sex, licking upwards through the folds slowly, until she arched forward against him and he pulled her down greedily as his hands pressed hard against her breasts. He ran his tongue over her with increasing speed, sucking at her as his fingers moved down to stretch her open.

She cooed in pleasure, and abruptly he knew that he would never last long enough to finish her that way. Replacing his mouth with his hand, he lifted his head and kissed his way up her body. She saw the urgency on his face as he settled against her, and his desire inflamed her own; she shifted just enough for him to enter her easily, trying not to break his control. He wished he could make love to her without thinking about her, knowing that if her name or her voice popped into his head, it would all be over. But he simply could not stop himself from gazing at her, and her serene, intense, adoring expresssion bored straight through him. Shuddering at the intensity, he stopped moving and gasped; she felt him fighting, tightening every muscle as he swelled within her, struggling not to collapse on top of her as his hips thrust helplessly against hers. The faint pressure pushed her over the edge and she cried out just as he did.

Neither moved for a very long time. Their labored breathing gradually slowed and Chakotay rolled to one side, never relinquishing his hold. His hand came up to smooth her hair as he sighed in contentment. Janeway was so still he was afraid that he had hurt her. "How's your headache?" he asked.

In the dimness of the cabin he could feel her smile. "What headache?" They continued to lie together, their arms and legs tangled with the sheets and each other. Neither wanted to be the first to let go, and so they remained.

Minutes, maybe hours later, she turned in his arms and lay her head on his shoulder. Her hand came up to stroke the muscles of his chest. He was almost asleep, but her rhythmic stroking was tantalizing enough to wake the dead. Chakotay shifted uncomfortably. "Are you sure you feel well enough for this? If anything goes wrong, we have that electronic excuse for a doctor to answer to."

"Not if we don't reactivate him," she sang with a sly tone. Her hands continued their journey of exploration; her fingers delicately traced the curves of his ears and followed down his jawline. She traced the shape of his lips with her index finger and he gently caught it between his teeth. He teased her fingertip with his tongue, causing her to catch her breath in a slight gasp. Then he reached for her breast and teased her nipple with his thumb. She closed her eyes, whimpering at the gentle assault of his hand.

Janeway allowed her hands to continue on their path. As she delicately spread her fingers over his abdomen, his breath caught in a fierce wave. She soon tired of teasing him and allowed her fingers to feather down the length of his erection. Unable to keep still any longer, Chakotay shifted his hips and pushed himself into her hand. She grasped him firmly and began to stroke steadily. Sliding herself down beside his body, she allowed herself one brief glance at his face before touching her lips to the tip of his penis. At her first contact, Chakotay tried to move away, but she effectively held him in place by closing her mouth over him. She held very still to allow him time to adjust to the sensation; she didn't want to end this too soon. As he began to relax a little, she began to move her tongue slowly around the head of his swollen shaft, continuing to stroke him with her hand. His hips began to rock involuntarily.

The closer he came to losing control, the more he knew he didn't want to go alone. He had to stop her soon, but she was wonderful... Summoning the little strength he had left, he reached for her arms and lifted her to him. He would have rolled her beneath him, but she was quicker: she pushed him onto his back and swung her knee over his hips. In one smooth motion, she lowered herself onto him and took in his entire length. As one, they began to undulate together slowly. She lifted herself off almost completely, only to sink back down and meet his thrust.

Their hips met and parted in an ever quickening pace, but, too soon, their need for fulfillment could no longer be denied. Pulling her face down to meet his lips, he expertly rolled her under him and took the lead. Their kiss mirrored the actions of their sex; tongues met and mated as they pushed themselves closer. Knowing that he was losing the race, he reached between them and pressed his hand against her. That gentle touch exploded in her senses and she clung to him, gasping his name as her climax set his in motion. They lay together in a sweaty pile, murmuring inarticulate sounds of blissful gratitude as their limbs slowly became too heavy to move.

~~~

If Lieutenant Tuvok had belonged to any race other than Vulcan, Kes would have described his expression as annoyed as he strode into sickbay. "I understand that the captain is still off duty, and all communication with her has been rerouted," he intoned. "But I believe it is necessary that we contact her. I have an explanation for the turbulence we encountered earlier, and Commander Chakotay is not answering any alerts. The computer reports that his comm badge is in the captain's quarters, but we cannot break through the sickbay lockout to contact him there.

Kes leaped to her feet; she had failed to consider that of course the Bridge crew would want to know where Chakotay was, and forgotten how easily a comm signal could be traced. At least it probably would not occur Tuvok to speculate on why the commander had been with the captain for...Kes was started as she looked at the chronometer: it had been hours since she left Janeway's quarters. She leaped to her feet. "He was watching the captain for me while I finished working here," she said quickly, averting her glance from the Vulcan's quizzical stare. "I didn't realize the time. I'll get him."

"I shall accompany you," Tuvok stated. "It is imperative that I speak with a senior officer at once."

"Computer, activate emergency medical program," Kes said quickly. The Doctor appeared before her, looking as if he'd been disturbed from some more important activity. "Doctor, I need you to override the medical lockout on communication with the captain," she explained before he could ask the nature of the emergency.

"How long have you left me off?" the Doctor demanded in annoyance as he checked the chronometer. "Well, it's been long enough that she should be in here for an examination at once." His fingers flew over the sickbay consoles. "This is the emergency holographic doctor speaking. Captain Janeway, please respond."

The chirping communicator followed by the nasal voice woke the ship's senior officers, who had fallen asleep curled in a tangled heap. "Janeway here," the captain grumbled, then cleared her throat as it registered who was speaking.

"Captain, you sound unwell. Please report to sickbay immediately for an examination." Janeway glanced at Chakotay, whose face registered amusement as he took in her disheveled hair and the sticky state of her body; she had to stifle a groan as she sat up.

"I'll be down as soon as I can."

"Shall I send Kes to accompany you?"

"NO," the captain barked a little too forcefully, causing both her first officer and the Ocampa in sickbay to grin widely. "I'm on my way. Janeway out..."

"Captain," another voice immediately cut in--Tuvok's, she realized. "Is Commander Chakotay with you?"

Chakotay glanced at Janeway, then at his uniform on the floor where the communicator gleamed. She shook her head in annoyance. "Yes. He was showing me the reports on the energy..."

"It is imperative that I speak to him at once," Tuvok cut her off, for which Janeway and Chakotay were both grateful. "I believe we have isolated the cause of the shock wave. It is not a natural phenomenon. Since the incident with the Sikarians, this ship has been emitting a higher level of antineutrino radiation than can be considered normal. I believe that our own engines caused the buildup..."

"On my way to the Bridge now, Tuvok," Chakotay interrupted. "Get Kim and Torres up there too, I want to meet as soon as I get there. Chakotay out." He looked ruefully at Janeway for a moment and then they both pulled themselves upright, tugging sheets and clothing around them, abruptly ashamed that they had competely forgotten duty for so long. "Race you to the shower," he said, just to cut the sudden tension.

"You're kidding." Her nervousness made her almost glare. "You have to get up to the Bridge, right now. I'm going to sickbay, they're going to examine me, and I can't go like this!"

"We better hope no one gets close enough to smell me," he said around a raised eyebrow, then added, "although you're usually the only one who does that." She looked him over, then shook her head with a smile; he was right, neither of them could leave her quarters in their present condition.

"Okay," she sighed. "We both have to get in and out of there in two minutes. Think you can work that fast?"

"I'm going to impress you," he replied.

Twenty minutes later when Janeway arrived in Sickbay, clean and glowing, the Doctor made his displeasure known. Meanwhile, in the conference room, the First Officer was explaining his delay:

"I had to finish up some business with the Captain. Now, about the latest consequences from your little sabotage..."

Remembering those consequences, he had to stifle a grin.


End file.
